


I Am Machine

by AirbornBiohazard



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: 707’s a Little More Insane Than Usual, Day 5 Bad Ending, Ending Continuation, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kind of Spoilery for the Day 5 End, Light Gore??? IDK a Lot of Blood, M/M, Machine Bad Ending, Title is a Three Days Grace Reference, V is a Dick, i don’t know, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 15:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13906812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AirbornBiohazard/pseuds/AirbornBiohazard
Summary: A continuation of the Day 5 Bad Ending, otherwise known as the Machine Bad End.Yoosung is taken to Mint Eye, but what happens there is something he had never wanted to dream of.





	I Am Machine

Yoosung exited the messenger, his lip trembling slightly.  
_What have I done?_  
He was glad to have gotten it all off his chest, to let the others know… but he knew it would end badly.  
He didn’t care, as long as it ended, as long as something changed.  
He just wanted something different, something that wasn’t on the script. He wanted to make choices and actually do something. So he had.  
Zen’s dream had been almost a wake-up call. If the others could remember, if they would believe him… perhaps they could fix this together? He looked at his watch impatiently. Zen and Jaehee should be showing up in around half an hour.  
He stared at the wall, trying to compose what he’d say to them when they arrived.  
_Like I told you in the messenger, V and Seven have brainwashed us into holding these damn parties. You want proof? What have you done between our last party and now? What’s happened in your life since then? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You’ve just been existing. We’ve all just been existing._  
A knock at the door made Yoosung jump. He glanced at his watch again. It had only been five minutes. Who could be there..?  
He got up slowly, pausing at the door. He held his breath until he heard a second knock. He released the breath as he opened the door.  
The stranger standing before him smiled down at him. “Hello.”  
Yoosung looked him up and down cautiously. His hair was bleached, his eyes were pale, and an intricate eye tattoo covered his exposed shoulder.  
“..Who are you?”  
The stranger held out his hand. “I’m here to take you to paradise.”  
Yoosung took a step back. “What do you mean? Paradise? ..Like the place Rika talked about?”  
He laughed. “Exactly.”  
Yoosung’s eyes widened. “D-does that mean Rika sent you?”  
The other boy nodded. “I suppose you could say that.”  
He was tempted to take the stranger’s hand, but pulled back. He shifted his eyes to the ground. “..But.. I’m a machine. Do machines.. deserve paradise?”  
The pale-eyed boy placed a gentle hand on Yoosung’s shoulder. “Magenta is a place where humans and machines can be happy.. _together_.”  
Yoosung looked back up to him. “Okay. I’ll go with you, then.”  
***  
The stranger led him through the apartment building and into a remote corner of the parking lot.  
“So, stranger.. who are you? Like, your name.”  
The boy shrugged off the question coldly, his former friendliness all but gone. “It’s not important.”  
Yoosung narrowed his eyes as they approached a silver car that seemed to belong to the boy. “Okay, ‘Not Important’, at least answer me this: why didn’t Rika want me before now..?”  
The voice behind him was gruff this time.  
“Because you didn’t need to be _fixed_ until now.”  
Punctuating those words was a sharp pressure at the base of Yoosung’s skull. Before he could say anything, blurry spots popped in his sight, and everything sizzled into dark.  
***  
The first thing he felt was the sharpness of his headache.  
Other than that, Yoosung recovered his hearing before his sight, and he soon realized it was because he was sitting in a dark room.  
There were two voices; both were voices he recognized, and both were voices that stirred up emotions he didn’t want to think about. It sounded like they were arguing in hushed tones behind the door.  
The first voice was instructing the second one, cold and stern. “It’s unfortunate that it’s come to this, but we can’t let Four corrupt the others.” That voice make Yoosung’s face get hot. Of course V would have something to do with this. Had that stranger tricked him? Had they been intercepted?  
The second one was complaining to the first, almost.. pleading.  
“Corrupt? Isn’t that a bit.. excessive? You don’t think they’d actually _believe_ him, do you?”  
Hearing Seven’s voice made Yoosung’s heart plummet. All these years he’d known Seven was behind it, but.. he hadn’t really wanted to believe it. He’d wanted to trust Seven, he’d wanted Seven to see him as more than just a machine.. and perhaps even as more than just a friend. But how could he? Seven had programmed him, after all.  
“What with Three’s dream and all, I figure it’s too dangerous to leave them alone. I want it gone.”  
“But is deactivating him really necessary?!” Seven’s voice was raising. “Can’t I just fix his algorithm? Can’t I just reprogram him?”  
V’s voice sounded like ice. “No.”  
The door made an audible ‘click’ as it unlocked. “I’ll leave you to it. I trust you know how to dispose of it when you’re done?”  
“I.. y-yes, V.”  
Yoosung became increasingly aware of the fact that his wrists and ankles were bound. He struggled against the binds, but they only cut into his skin. He was sitting on the floor, his back against cool stone.  
The door swung open and the lights turned on, blinding him for a moment. He blinked until he could see again.  
The room was bare, and looked as if it had been carved out of smooth black stone. Stone walls, stone floor, stone ceiling. It was more like a cell than anything.  
When Seven entered the room, Yoosung closed his eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the person coming toward him; the person he admired, the person he had always loved to spend time with.  
He heard footsteps echoing as Seven got closer. He heard something be set down beside him, and opened his eyes slightly to see a bag, and that Seven has crouched in front of him.  
“Hey, Yoosung..” his voice was soft. “How do you feel? ..Did he hurt you?”  
It took a second for it to click that he was talking about the strange boy from earlier, but whoever the hell that was, he didn’t matter anymore. “W-what are you going to do to me?”  
He looked up to meet Seven’s eyes, and the pain there was enough to make his breath quicken and his heart race. He tried to drag himself away, to pull out of the rope that kept cutting into him, but it was all useless.  
“Hey, hey, don’t be afraid. You’ll be alright,” Seven cooed quietly. “Everything will be okay.”  
He reached out and ran his fingers through Yoosung’s hair. It shouldn’t have been, but it was comforting.  
Yoosung asked again, quieter, “What are you going to do to me..?”  
Seven let out a sigh. “V wants me to.. deactivate you. I’d rather do something less extreme, but.. y’know. Orders.” He started rummaging through the bag.  
Yoosung felt the panic starting to bubble up in his chest again. “W-why does he want to kill me?! C-can’t you just re-brainwash me or something?!” He started to choke on his own hurried breaths, gasping and coughing. “P-please, don’t..”  
Seven looked up from the bag, worry clouding his eyes. “Shh, honey, you don’t have to worry about this, okay? I promise it doesn’t hurt.” He pushed a lock of blonde hair behind Yoosung’s ear. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”  
Tears welled in violet eyes, and Yoosung pulled away from Seven’s hand. “D-don’t touch me, damn it! W-why can’t you let me _go?_!”  
Seven growled and put his hand on he smaller boy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, okay? I don’t want to do this either!”  
He went back to the bag, pulling out a syringe filled with a light blue liquid. He fidgeted with it, rolling around in his fingers. “..You know, I wanted to keep you from the beginning. Whenever V decided to use you, I asked if I could have you help me around my place instead, but he just told me that having Vanderwood was enough..” He flicked the side of the needle, a couple light blue droplets spraying. “You were always my favourite, you know. V always got mad at me for that.. But I guess I couldn’t help it. ..I hate that your cousin got you all caught up in this mess. You deserved so much better.”  
Yoosung stared at the needle. “W-what’s that..?”  
Seven looked down as if he’d forgotten it. “This? It’s just a numbing agent; you won’t feel a thing.”  
“W-what do you mean, I won’t feel anything? What are you g-going to do?”  
Seven sighed again and set the needle down on the side of the bag. He leaned forward and placed a finger in the middle of Yoosung’s forehead. The smaller boy flinched, but didn’t pull away.  
“There’s a chip there. I have to disconnect that,” he moved his other hand to place two fingers on the left side of Yoosung’s chest. Yoosung could feel his heartbeat smash against Seven’s fingertips. “And then flip the switch that’s in here. And that’s it.”  
He withdrew his fingers. “Lucky for you, you’ll only really be around for the first part, the chip. After that, you’ll pretty much be gone.”  
He tilted his head a little and gave Yoosung a small, reassuring smile. “It won’t take very long, it won’t hurt, and you won’t have to suffer anymore. Okay?” Although his voice was calm and even, Yoosung didn’t let it relax him.  
“P-please, Seven…” His pulse stabbed into his headache, and pain radiated through his head; his wrists strained and burned.  
Seven slipped his hand behind Yoosung’s head, pulling it to his shoulder and exposing the left side of the boy’s neck. The smaller blonde struggled feebly to pull away. “Seven, please, you can stop, you don’t have to do what V says, just help me get out of here.. I thought we were friends..? Please stop, please don’t hurt me! Please, _please_ , _listen to me..”_  
Seven stroked through Yoosung’s hair until the words stopped, and there was nothing but pained whimpers and tears that soaked into Seven’s jacket.  
“Shh..” Seven whispered, lining the needle up with a vein on the side of Yoosung’s neck. “This is just going to make the hurt go away, alright? You might feel a little tired and kind of.. floaty. It’ll pinch for half a second. Ready?”  
“No..”  
“Just take a deep breath for me, okay?”  
Yoosung sucked in a breath, but couldn’t decide whether he’d done it on purpose or not.  
“Breathe out on three. One, two..” The tip of the needle touched skin, eliciting a shiver.  
“Three.”  
Just as Seven had promised, there was a tight pinch, but it faded so quickly he was left wondering if he’d really felt it. Then there was the pressure of a hand rubbing his back. “There you go. Keep breathing like normal; it only takes a few seconds.”  
Yoosung obediently took shaky breaths, trying desperately to stay awake. After a moment, he realized that he wasn’t going to black out, and felt his muscles relax. Soon his headache faded, and the ropes on his wrists and ankles didn’t bother him anymore. A hazy feeling took over his mind, and he felt a little bit like a cloud.  
Seven reached down and unfastened the binds around his wrists, before leaning him back against the wall. After a few moments, his ankles were free as well. He lazily pulled his hands in front of his face, seeing for the first time the raw bracelets of skin that wound around his wrists.  
Seven gingerly took Yoosung’s hands in his, rubbing circles in his palms.  
“Do your wrists hurt?”  
Yoosung shook his head lightly.  
“That’s good!” Seven smiled and dove back into his bag. “We can start now.”  
Yoosung followed his movements with half-lidded eyes, still preoccupied with his slightly bloody wrists. Out of the bag appeared both a pair of tweezers and a scalpel.  
Seven shifted himself into a sitting position, and motioned for Yoosung to lean towards him.  
Yoosung’s eyes stayed warily on the blade, and Seven chuckled softly. “I told you, it won’t hurt. Do you want me to prove it?”  
He took Yoosung’s right hand in his own, holding the scalpel against it. Yoosung squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the sting of the slice…  
But it never came.  
“You can open your eyes now.”  
Hesitantly, he peeked through eyelashes. Sure enough, a long gash laid across the palm that Seven held, red warmth bleeding out of it to pool in his hand and drip to the floor.  
“See? That wasn’t so bad.”  
Watching the drops hit the floor, he nodded numbly.  
_Drip._  
Drip.  
Drip.  
“It’s kinda pretty, isn’t it?” Seven asked into the air. “Like liquid rubies.”  
Another nod. Yoosung couldn’t stop staring.  
_Why doesn’t it hurt? He said he numbed it, but I didn’t think it would work this well…_ It took a few moments for those thoughts to process, as everything in his head seemed to be moving through cotton. Or perhaps his mind _was_ made of cotton; he wasn’t sure.  
Seven took Yoosung’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together. The liquid rubies slipped through their fingers.  
_Drip._  
Drip.  
Drip.  
Yoosung looked down and puzzled at their hands like that. It seemed awfully familiar.  
After a moment, he remembered the few other times they’d held hands like that. ..Minus the blood.  
_Once when we went to the movies together… I don’t remember when it happened, but at the end of the movie, our hands were together… we laughed it off like it was nothing._  
Another time we were walking through a park near my campus.. it started to drizzle, and it was so cliche that we just had to hold hands and walk in the rain…  
They’d never really quantified their relationship into words, not exactly. Each had assumed that the other was just overly affectionate, and everyone else had assumed the same.  
Yoosung wished he could ask Seven about it, but he couldn't figure out what words to use quick enough.  
Seven released his hand, and it fell slowly into his lap, almost like slow-motion.  
The motion was made again for Yoosung to lean forward, and he obeyed without thinking about it. Seven removed the clips from the blonde bangs, brushing them back with his bloodied fingers before reclipping them, out of the way.  
The scalpel back in his hand, he held Yoosung’s face with delicate care.  
Yoosung met eyes with his engineer, and begged quietly. “..Do you have to?”  
Seven merely whispered back, “Shh.. Just close your eyes and relax.”  
Yoosung took a breath, letting eyelids fall closed.  
Seven took a breath for himself, reminding himself that this was an order. Humming a quiet melody to himself, he pushed the tip of the blade and ran it horizontally across Yoosung’s forehead.  
For a millisecond, it was as if nothing happened.  
Yoosung only felt warmth spreading across his forehead, and when it made its way to his eyes, he opened them.  
He saw everything in a red film, the thick warmth dripping down into his eyesight like molten lava.  
_Drip._  
Drip.  
Drip.  
It pooled in his eyes, mixing with painless tears before sliding down his cheeks and off his chin.  
_Drip._  
Drip.  
Drip.  
Seven made two more cuts, each going diagonally from the edge of the first slit almost up to Yoosung’s hairline.  
He set the blade down and picked up the tweezers, still humming softly to some song without words.  
Yoosung blinked through the deep red, a red that reminded him of Seven’s hair, and for a moment thought perhaps their foreheads had been together, and it was only the red of Seven’s fringe that he saw.  
But when the moment faded, he remembered the chip. “..Don’t take it out.. I don’t want to die..”  
Seven combed his fingers through the sides of the blonde’s hair, streaking it red.  
“This is almost over, honey, just hold on. It’s just like falling asleep.” He smiled slightly. “I could even sing you something if you want, like a lullaby.”  
Yoosung wanted to protest, but the only thought me managed to articulate was, “...But I want you to sing to me when I wake up.”  
Seven opened his mouth before closing it again, think for a second before smiling sadly. “I’d like that too, actually,” he went back to work as he spoke, peeling the cut section of skin up to reveal a small green and silver chip embedded in thin muscle and bone. “I’d also like to wake up _with_ you. I think that would have been nice… seeing your eyes every morning.”  
If there had been enough blood under his skin, Yoosung would have blushed; however, since most of it painted his skin scarlet from the outside, he simply hummed to the response. “..That could still happen.”  
Seven sighed and looked away. “I don’t think that it can. I’m sorry.”  
Crimson continued to ooze from the lacerated expanse of flesh of Yoosung’s face, and when Seven looked back to it, it gave him the sudden impression that the boy was melting. His stomach lurched slightly as he focused again on the chip.  
“This will all be over soon.” It felt as if he was speaking more to himself.  
Yoosung steeled his nerves, reaching up to catch Seven’s wrists. He pulled lightly, and Seven let himself be pulled down to Yoosung’s eye level.  
“Please, Seven, I’ll do _anything_.. I don’t want it to be over, please let me live.. Keep me, reprogram me, fix me, just d-don’t discard me,” tears carved clear streaks through red. “I’ll do anything. I’ll say anything. _Please_.”  
The redhead felt tears well up behind his own eyes. “Damn it, _damn it,_ ” He blinked away droplets that fell away down his face.  
_Drip._  
Drip.  
Drip.  
“I don’t know if I can-”  
“Tell V anything; th-there has to be something you could tell him, please.”  
He fought himself, his own judgement. He didn’t want to go through with it, but his fear of V was strong enough to tear his conscience. “Perhaps I could.. he might believe that..” Seven searched the blonde’s face, hating himself and hating the situation. “..If we try this, you’ll have to do exactly what I say.”  
Yoosung’s eyes widened; he nodded violently.  
“A-anything.”  
“You’ll probably have to tell everyone else that you had a mental breakdown..”  
More nodding. “I had a m-mental breakdown.”  
“..And we’ll have to keep you here for a while,” Seven continued without thought, “to make sure you’re okay.”  
Yoosung threaded his fingers with the hand that wasn’t holding the knife, drying blood tacky between their palms. “Please, anything. Anything.”  
With a last look, Seven shoved the knife back into the bag. “..You _were_ always my favorite..” He turned back to Yoosung, a curved needle and thread replacing it.  
Seven set to lowering the flap of skin back over the chip; sewing the gashes closed and resuming his humming.  
Yoosung closed his eyes, letting out a large breath he had been subconsciously holding, and relaxed onto the wall as Seven worked. The fuzzy feeling of numbness pushed against his eyes and left him feeling weightless; and before long he felt almost as if he were asleep.  
He woke up to the feeling of a damp towel on his face, gently sponging away blood. He blinked legarthically when the towel wasn’t on his eyes, catching Seven’s gaze.  
“Did you fall asleep?”  
He nodded softly in response, feeling both physically and emotionally drained.  
“As soon as I finish this, I’ll take you somewhere you can sleep a bit more comfortably, okay?”  
Instead of responding, his eyes fell back shut. After a few moments, he felt gauze pressed to his forehead, and a bandage wrapped around his head. He twitched the fingers of his right hand, only to realize the gash there had already been bandaged; probably while he’d drifted off.  
When that was done, he felt a hand on his back, pulling him forward enough to rest his head on Seven’s shoulder.  
They sat like that for a while, Seven rubbing Yoosung’s back gently.  
Seven eventually shifted his face to whisper, “I’ve got to go talk with V. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”  
Despite a nearly inaudible whine from Yoosung, he stood, stretched, and brushed himself off. He huffed at the matted red mess his shirt had become. Pushing it to the back of his mind, he hesitantly walked towards the door.  
V must have been waiting outside, because Yoosung could still hear their voices on the other side of the door.  
“So? You took a while. How did it go?”  
He could feel the uncomfortable pause before Seven answered.  
“Well, I got to thinking, and.. it took so long to program him, and he’s valuable to us; so, I, uhm, figured it would be a waste to let him go..”  
V’s voice was deadpan. “You didn’t deactivate it.”  
Seven laughed nervously and apologetically. “I couldn’t! He’s worth a lot to us, you know?”  
“You always were far too affectionate towards that one,” V sighed was exasperated. “Why do I have to do everything around here myself?”  
Yoosung’s heartbeat quickened, his eyes widened. He heard a quick movement; judging by the breaks in the bar of light under the door, Seven was blocking V from entering.  
“L-listen to me!” Seven’s voice seemed at the edge of hysterics. “It was a lot of work and money to get these guys, are you saying you’re just going to throw all that away?!”  
V gave no reply.  
“B-besides, you don’t know _how_ to deactivate him, do you..?”  
V nearly laughed. “I was simply going to smash its skull in until it stopped working,” it felt like he shrugged haphazardly, “but, if you _really_ think keeping Four is worth it, be my guest.” His heels clicked a distance away before he added, “However, when you’re bored with your toy, be sure to dispose of it.”  
There were more echoes of receding heel-clicks, then nothing.  
“..S-Seven?” Yoosung called into the darkness; his headache had slowly begun to return, along with a dull pain in his hand. As he processed what V had threatened, his pulse raced. “Seven!”  
Seven hurried back to sit in front of him. His breaths came in gasps, and the dull pains started to become more severe; his head felt like it was splitting open, his hand stung.  
Stars popped in his eyes, and through hot tears he barely saw Seven digging through his satchel again.  
“Shit, _shit_ , the injection is wearing off.. I’m sorry, honey, gimme a second..”  
Yoosung began to choke on his own gulps of air, coughing himself to near unconsciousness.  
After what seemed like an eternity, Seven procured another syringe; the contents slightly more opaque and a bit darker than before. “Here, give me your neck.”  
Yoosung hurriedly pressed his face to Seven’s shoulder, stretching out his neck.  
“Take a breath; one, two, three,” Yoosung didn’t notice the pinch this time. “There you go.. that was a bit stronger than before, so you’ll fall asleep, alright?”  
Yoosung nodded into his engineer’s shoulder, his panic drifting back down as the pain faded and his tears morphed into whimpers. Seven gently pulled him into his lap, surrounding the smaller boy with his arms.  
Yoosung sniffed a bit, then asked quietly, “V didn’t mean… he wouldn’t really.. s-smash my head in, r-right..?” His left hand held tightly to Seven’s shirt, as if he’d disappear.  
Seven only hugged him tighter, speaking lowly into his ear. “I promise I won’t let him hurt you. I’ll keep you safe.”  
Shadows creeped at the corners of Yoosung’s eyes, and he snuggled himself closer to Seven’s chest.  
The last thing he felt was a soft kiss on his cheek; then everything faded into darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that’s that.  
> I just thought the Machine End... ended.. a bit too abruptly.  
> I might continue this, depends on what people think.  
> ..I’m not entirely happy with it at this point, but I figure I might as well leave it here so I can devote my time to other things *looks at list of pending works and shudders*
> 
> So thanks for reading; feel free to comment, everything is appreciated ^^


End file.
